0.0 Wow, I am actually on the third chappie. I am sorta winging this so yeah. (Blush) hehe. Don't worry though, I plan to finish this, and I do have a semi somewhat idea of what is going to happen. I know. . . pathetic! But anyways I am sure you don't want to listen to me babble.

DISCLAIMER: What? I don't own Cowboy Bebop you say. . . Dammit! And I wanted to marry Spike. Oh well. (The sound of a man sighing in relief can be heard.)

Reminder: As the plane was in the air, I looked out the window to see my childhood home one last time and made a simple wish. "I hope my new life is as marvelous and wonderful as my life in Catalina." My new life was about to begin. "Goodbye Catalina. I'll never forget you."

Out of the darkness and into the sun,

But I won't forget the place I come from.

I've gotta take a risk, take a chance,

Make a change, and break away.

Break away, break away

………………………………………………………………………………

I had settled down in a small but comfortable apartment in LA—yeah, LA, just the place for me. What had led me there you ask. That is easy. The mystery and intrigue at every street corner, the romance, the city nightlife, the lights, the suspense— or in reality— the casinos. Gambling! Sure I may have only been 18, but I was a big girl and knew how to slither my way around barriers which mostly consisted of big, dense guards, who only think with their dicks and would do anything to get into a woman's panties. All I had to do was show them a little cleavage, and I was shown inside. Well, there was a little coaxing involved, but I got in nonetheless.

When I walked into my first casino ever, my heart felt exhilarated, and nearly leaped for joy. It was beautiful! For me, it was like staring deep into a pink and purple sunset that blanketed the expanse of a sky. When you walked you got a good whiff of liquor and cigarettes. The walls were decorated in a gold tiles and so was the floor with rare, expensive paintings decked about. People adorned in exquisite gowns and priceless jewels crowded this heaven. Never had a place felt so right for me. At that moment I knew I belonged.

At first I just explored the new territory, studying and inspecting every minute detail: the painted ceilings, the authentic glasses filled with sparkling wines, the dice being rolled that always seemed to score the lucky number 7 for those more well endowed in the sport of gambling, and my most knowledgeable area— the deck of cards. But my inspection came to a sudden halt when before me stood the most enchanting game of all gambling, Blackjack.

Straightening my composure, and flipping my hair out of my face, I sauntered over to the beautiful green table that called out to me. I seated myself in the empty middle stool and called for a martini. As the drink was brought to my side I noticed the dealer smirking at me as if he had some unknown secret that would make it impossible for me to win. But I only smirked back, little to the dealer's awareness; I too had a little secret of my own. I happened to be the best blackjack player back home. So good as a matter of fact, I was deemed Poker Alice. I beat everyone, every time, with a perfect game, a 21. I never lost, and I sure as hell wasn't going to let my perfect history of blackjack diminish with one game.

The dealer was more contemporary then the other employees at the casino. Decked out in a Hawaiian shirt and sporting a goatee he reminded me more of a restaurant stand worker then a highly talented blackjack player.

As he dealt out the cards I smiled impishly at the results. The poor guy, I didn't even have to work my magic on the cards. Tsk tsk— yeah I cheat. So what! I managed a perfect 21. A small chuckle escaped my lips as the dealer asked me to reveal my cards. Ever so slowly I exposed my winning hand with a triumphant smile plastered upon my face. Glowing with pride, I snickered. "So. . . Whatcha' got?"

Perspiration flowed down the dealer's petite face. His eyes were full of shock as his three "magical" cards slipped through his fingers only to fall a couple of inches from my hands.

I peered down at the table then drifted my eyes back to the speechless dealer. "A 20! Not bad!"

The dealer's eyes flared up, his hands clenching at his sides. "How did you win? I never lose! NEVER!" The anger was clearly evident in his voice and bloodshot eyes.

"Geese buddy, calm down. Tell you what. How bout we play a few more times, raise the stakes a little if you know what I mean." I winked and then inched my body toward the dealer and when only a few mere inches from his face I petted his nose with the slightest touch of my beautifully manicured finger. "What do you say?"

I could hear his violent breathing slowly subside as his shaking hand grabbed for the deck to deal out another game. "Sure, why not. And this time I won't let you win."

A sly smile marked my face and with that we began another game. I won, and after 20 games, I still managed to win each and every one with a perfect hand. What can I say? I just have natural born talent and luck.

"But how? How? I have never lost a game! How did a sleazy slut like you beat me?" The dealer gave my provocative dress and me a once over to prove his point.

My eyes narrowed into tiny slits, as I had to control myself from pulling his tongue right out of his dehumanizing mouth. Instead, I let my hand meet his cheek with a force that left his right side throbbing in pain and a perfect, red imprint.

Grabbing one chip, I flicked it back at the dealer. "There, take it. Think of it as a second place trophy." I then bathed my hands in the rest of my winnings as I lifted them off the table. "I think I will cash these in." And with that, I left the table, a bright spark in my eyes full of self-appraisal for my perfection at such a sophisticated game.

I was about to leave the casino, satisfied with my first day's winnings, but didn't get very far.

Two guards blocked the exit and told me I was not permitted to leave.

"What?!"

"You heard us! Anyways, the boss wants to have a little with ya. And what the boss says goes. So why don't you just take your pretty little. . ."

"Orvell!"

The guard grew immediately silent, his eyes filling with fear.

I followed his gaze to see what he was so uppity about. My eyes met with a pair of cold grey ones that faded into a pleasant blue.

"Hello, my name is Vicious." He stretched his hand out to me.

Accepting his hand, I blushed as he kissed it, and then he proceeded with his introduction. "I am the owner of this joint. Sorry about my employees vulgar behavior. I shall assure you that kind of behavior does not go without severe punishment." His eyes glared unsettling at the guard, to whom he mouthed plain and simple, "fired".

Shock registered in the guards face. "What? What the hell? Fuck that! I have been working here for 10 years. You can't just fire my ass. That bitch started it! And I—"

"Security!" With the flick of Vicious' finger, a barrage of men in uniform encircled the man, bringing him down upon the floor.

The guard put up a hefty fight but they managed with ease to knock him unconscious and carry him upon their shoulders out of the casino.

Surprisingly, everyone in the surrounding vicinity acted as if nothing had occurred just then. They just continued on with their games of luck, where one error could leave you broke till your next paycheck.

"Sorry that you had to see that. I do try to keep violence and explicit language out of my casino. But sometimes these things just can't be helped." Warmth immersed throughout the room as he spoke, his voice full of passion. "May I be honored with the pleasantry of knowing your name Miss. . ."

"Valentine. Faye Valentine."

"Aw, Faye Valentine. What a lovely name thou possesses. Might you mind if I take you to my office for a quick intercourse?" The warmth that filled his voice caused my heart to race slightly. "Sure—"

"Great! Follow me." He offered me his hand, and a small chill ran down my back. Something about him made me feel strange. Whether it was his eyes, his touch, or his voice I didn't really know.

He guided me through a maze of hallways until we reached his office, room number 239A. Vicious opened the door, revealing a rather simplistic but shady looking room. Nothing compared to the rest of the casino. The walls were off white with one large window at the parallel wall to the door. Blood stained, velvet curtains covered the window releasing little light into the room. Chairs were scattered about and a large red oak desk in the center of the office displayed one picture— the only picture in the whole vicinity of the room.

My curiosity had sparked. What would a guy who probably is one of the richest men in the country have displayed in that one single picture frame. I went to go see but. . .

"Faye, I mean, I am sorry. Miss Valentine. Might you sit down at one of my chairs." Vicious had a certain high level of dignity in his voice. His statement was neither a question nor a demand.

Leisurely placing myself on a couch seated at the far side of the room I studied Vicious as I watched him pull out some papers. Through his seemingly cold veneer was a passionate, determined man. It showed in his every movement and the way he presented himself. His cool, silver hair, masked his face perfectly and his sporty, black suit brought out his masculinity. And his baby blue eyes sparkled with passion just like his voice as he worked. But as he searched through his paper, it then struck me, why was I here? What did he want to talk about?

Vicious had perfect timing it seemed, as he had managed to interrupt my thoughts again. "Aw here it is! Pulling out a sheet of paper from a stack 5 meters high he smirked. His eyes showed no emotion though as he turned to look me straight in the eyes. "Miss Valentine, were you the one who scammed my best Blackjack player out of my casino's money?"

At that moment his words met my ears, I knew I was in deep shit.

Hooray! I managed to get another chapter done, and it is a little longer too. Sorry that I have no song to go with it. I seriously couldn't think of one. Oh well. I hope that ya all liked it. Please R&R and tell me what you think.